


The Subtlest Route

by amyfortuna



Category: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/F, Femslash, Oral Sex, Running Away, legendarium ladies april, topographies almost as a dictionary
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-11
Updated: 2015-04-11
Packaged: 2018-03-22 08:37:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 948
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3722296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amyfortuna/pseuds/amyfortuna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Galadriel and Luthien run away from Doriath together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Subtlest Route

**Author's Note:**

> The poem quoted is excerpts from [Topographies almost as a dictionary](http://poemsfromtheportuguese.org/33_Topographies_almost_as_a_dictionary) by Ana Luísa Amaral.
> 
> This answers the [Legendarium Ladies April](http://legendariumladiesapril.tumblr.com/post/115657496788/legendarium-ladies-april-prompts-for-april-06) prompt for April 6.

She sometimes think her heart will burst when she looks at Artanis, shining golden-bright against the deep green sward of the forest. She wears a sword which she wields with deadly accuracy, but the power of her voice is often enough in and of itself, to quell any and all who would interfere with them. Her hair falls around her like a curtain of purest gold and silver mingled, making even the sun's radiance seem tame by comparison. Luthien is not unaware of her own beauty, but she would far rather look at Artanis than her own face in a mirror, for her own face did not send her into such a ecstasy of feeling, did not make her wet and aching between her thighs. 

"Where is this Tol Galen you spoke of?" Artanis asks Luthien, drawing close, putting an arm around her waist. Luthien leans in and steals a kiss before she answers, revelling in the chance to watch Artanis go breathless and wanting for a moment under her. Her Noldorin armour is strange to Luthien, who only wears her blue dress and a cloak woven from her own hair, said to cause all who touch it to fall into a deep sleep (she knows that this is false - it is the songs that made them sleep, when she and Artanis escaped Menegroth together, hand in hand). 

"Some way across this land," Luthien says, taking Artanis by the hand. "East and a little South, across rivers, through fair meadows." They walk together in silence for some time, Arien's radiance falling across them. In the sky, the wandering Moon trails the Sun. It will be a dark night tonight, and Luthien is grateful for it - it seems more familiar somehow than this new pair of lights which arose only a few years ago, and heralded the coming of the Noldorin, with the light in their eyes that before she had only seen in the eyes of three: her father, her mother, and herself, an inherited gift. 

When the night comes they stop walking for a time, settling down in the meadow as they are, a line of trees visible in the distance. Far away to the South, Luthien knows, is the Sea. Luthien has brought her mother's lembas along, enough to easily keep them for the journey, and they eat for the main part in silence, curled up against each other as if they cannot bear to be out of contact even for a moment. 

Without a word, Luthien helps Artanis take off her armour, and she sheds her own dress, and they make love there under the stars, with the sweet night breezes caressing them, Luthien's fingers twisting in Artanis' wet slick heat, until she cries out again and again. But it is best when Artanis puts her mouth on Luthien, presses her tongue to the very heart of her, brings all her being to the focal point of that touch, until it can no longer be borne, and Luthien is lost to waves of sensation. The stars shine on as she gasps with her eyes open, staring, staring at them until it seems that they dance for her. 

Once it is over, and Luthien is coming back to herself, breath evening out, Artanis lies down next to her. Everywhere she touches Luthien, sensation sparks. She traces, with one delicate finger, the curve of throat, of collarbone, presses a kiss to Luthien's shoulder, takes one breast in her hand to feel the weight of it. Luthien, still almost at the point of overwhelming, drifts, caught in the physicality of those caresses. Artanis' face is open above her, curious, watching her reactions, learning her body like she would learn a traveller's map.

Above her, Artanis' hair is crowned with stars. Under the wide sky, they look like they are caught in the light of her tresses, silver and gold, and white shining brightness. 

"Galadriel," Luthien whispers suddenly, softly. "That is what you are. Galadriel. The stars are caught in your hair, radiant garlanded maiden."

Artanis laughs, bending to kiss her. Their mouths meet, and their breasts press together, warm and solid in the darkness. Luthien feels words rushing all through her at the feel of Artanis' lips on hers, and when the kiss breaks, she speaks them, slow and careful. 

_"Your fingers marked_  
_the subtlest route over my body_  
_and their timeless_  
_topographic curve_  
_stayed there, like a smile, or the mouth_  
_of a nameless river_

_It doesn't matter where I am:_  
_this line of firs or pine trees_  
_sloping softly,_  
_lightly, towards the sea_  
_can be everything..."_

Artanis' breath catches at the words, giving Luthien the most eloquent of looks, and she breathes out in reply: 

_"Where are all the words hiding?_  
_I know I need a new way,_  
_a new word_  
_for the frame or the colour..."_

She looks again at Luthien, and the light that fills her eyes is love. She smiles, and continues: 

_"Learning through_  
_seeing is_  
_what I'm missing now_

_\- Only the sun is left_  
_shedding light on the very spot_  
_where a traveller's map is useless."_

She bends that radiant head into the curve of Luthien's shoulder, and they lie there together, not speaking any longer with words, as the stars whirl above them.

When the sun dawns once more, they smile and break apart. Artanis dons her armour once more, Luthien slips her dress on. Before they start to walk forward again once more, Artanis whispers, close to her ear, "Galadriel, you called me." 

Luthien smiles. The stars are gone now, but the radiant garland of Artanis' hair still shines bright in the sunshine. "Galadriel," she says, the name a caress.


End file.
